I'll never say goodbye to you
by maruckaaa
Summary: Kurt was supposed to have a good day, but then he looked at the TV and saw his ex school on the screen.
1. Chapter 1

Kurt was late. His college day dragged out into oblivion, and now he was late for his internship. He didn't work that much these days, simply chipping in when Isabelle asked him. It was little things, like his opinion on an insane brooche and sorting clippings from old magazines. You see, she always said Kurt's collage making skills were magical. It made him beam and smile, and imagine it was something his mother would say if she was still around.

The TV was running and muted, while Kurt was making a cup of coffee to go. Why spend 5 bucks on a latte when you can invest into a fabulous travel cup and make even more fabulous drinks? So that was just what he did.

Soya milk. They were out of it, because Rachel, once again, tried to make a souffle with it. That girl would never learn. Huffing out a frustrated groan, Kurt satisfied himself with tiny container of cream and a big spoon of sugar. That's when red shape caught his eye and he moved to the TV.

His school was on. Well, ex school. Feeling around, he found the remote and clicked few buttons, highening the volume. „...shooting in local Lima, Ohio high school. We don't know if there had been any lethalities, but it was confirmed that there were two shots. Several people are trapped in, but it's unsure if they are held hostage..." Yabba yabba. Kurt was distracted, eyes glued to a girl in red dress and green coat in the background. Hell, he /bought/ that dress with her. And she was crying hysterically. Tina.

Kust felt his heart drop, and panic fill his chest. Oh my God. Oh my God. No. No no no. His eyes franatically searched the screen for some of his other friends, but the screen changed, and a gray haired man was now talking about dangers that was lack of metal detectors. He wasn't sure how to breathe of function without suffocating. His tongue felt big and out of place in his mouth, as the claustrophobia he didn't know he had kicked in.

Blaine.

His Blaine.


	2. Chapter 2

For a moment she panicked when the TV was gone from the living room, but she started breathing again after nearly falling over a cable that stretched across the room and under the curtain what separated Kurt's 'personal space' from the rest of their place.  
Quiet rumbling voice filled the air, and it really didn't sound like a movie.

„Kurt?" she called, poking her head trough the improvised door and worry painted across her face. „Babe, are you okay?"  
It was odd.  
She found him at the exact same position she left him this morning, even though he obviously moved. He was dressed for work, and there was a cup of cold coffee on the night stand. And then there was whole TV deal. „Why did you steal our TV?"  
If he registered her, he didn't show it. Laptop was open on the edge of his bed, and there was a cotton bag on the floor half filled with un-ironed clothes, as if Kurt just transferred the pile from dryer to it.  
„Kurt? What's going on?"  
„There was shooting at William McKinley. Rachel, I'm going home."

oOo

Kurt couldn't get to his phone soon enough. His chest felt tight and as if he had snake squirming and biting at his heart. Where was it? Charger. Yes. Charger. Nearly falling over the backrest of the sofa, he bolted to the kitchen and snatched the phone from the counter. His palms were slick and cold, and his fingers numb. Bloody touch screen. He fiddled with it, finally managing to enter the right pass code.

_7 new messages._

His heart skipped a beat.

Okay. Breathe. Breathing is your friend. He pressed _Read_ and counted to 10.

"_Kurt, there was a shot here"_

"_I'm scared."_

"_I just wanted to tell you that I love you"_

"_And I know that we're just friends"_

"_But I love you so much"_

"_I don't ever wanna say goodbye to you"_

"_But"_

Blaine.

His Blaine.

But? But. _But?_ But what. Kurt pressed a shaky hand to his chest. _Give me your hand. Hold it to your heart. Just like the song? Like the song. _Stop that.  
Sucking in a deep breath, Kurt closed his eyes, tightening the grip to the phone, in an attempt to stop his hands from shaking.

oOo

He replied to them. _One, two, three times._ No answer. Oh my God, was he hurt? Was he shot? Was any of them shot? Those kids were his family. Even if he didn't know some of them all that good, but they were all connected on higher level. Simple as that.  
_Please please please._  
He was too scared to call. What if Blaine was hiding under a table, and the killer is passing by him right at this second, and his phone rings? Kurt would be the killer in that case. So he sent another message, chewing onto his lip. He could already feel iron-y scent against his tongue. _Fuck._ Please, Blaine. Please.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt woke up with a jerk as nice lady on the plane poked him in the side. He got onto the first plane home, which was still way too late. An entire day, he had to sit and watch the news, mixed with franatical internet surfing. JBI actually had the sound of two shots on tape, before camera fell down and broke. He survived day somehow, and in the evening Rachel came home- At least he wasn't alone anymore.

The night was a drag, and he spent most of it in packing and calling people. Blaine's phone was off, and no one picked up the house phone. Burt promised to go and check up on him, but no one opened the door, and Kurt was just about ready to burst out from his good skin by the time Adam gave him a ride to the airport. He was awfully nice about this, not really pushing any questions, and if he was mad that he was leaving? He didn't show it. And Kurt was grateful, unsure if he even could bother with giving explanations.

oOo

Lima airport looked just like it always did. Half empty, with small groups of people crowded in a café and small seating area that was in the corner, by the admissions.  
Kurt left shoulder was lower than the right due to weight of sheet-like cotton bag. Sleeve of his button up jumper was peeking out and it was lumpy, so different from Kurt's usual neatness.


End file.
